


we get together like oil and water

by betterbutter



Category: Mamamoo, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Angst, Awkward, Awkward Kim Seokjin | Jin, Bad Flirting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Grease the Movie, Humor, I'm here to atone for that, Kim Namjoon | RM/Kim Seokjin | Jin-centric, M/M, Mexican restaurants, awkward acquaintances to lovers lol, food truck kink, mild crack, multiple undisclosed and unnamed kinks, namjin never get enough smex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-10-26 15:42:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20744648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betterbutter/pseuds/betterbutter
Summary: That summer, the movie theater starts hosting late night theater showings. Namjoon cries at Juno, and cries at How To Train Your Dragon 2. If only he liked Grease. Then Jin might actually be able to justify falling in love with this loser.





	1. uno

**Author's Note:**

> if you're interested in seeing the finish line with me, please comment or kudos or whatever the kids do these days. I have decided to start my journey into bts with my food-truck-kink fic, for some reason.
> 
> haha....jesus better not be listening...
> 
> (((if you speak spanish, I am SO sorry. there were no Spanish speakers involved in the making of this fic it was all Google translate.

Honestly, their relationship is kind of weird. 

Seokjin has always run in a lot of circles. Namjoon was one of those people who was running in those same circles, but on the opposite side of a room, or busy with a crisis, or just leaving, or just arriving. 

It’s like this: they’ve been reintroduced by mutual friends a hundred times, but Namjoon always seemed like he’d rather be anywhere else and Seokjin was always bored by the idea of trying to entertain someone who obviously wasn’t going to have fun. They’ve said “hello” and “oh sorry, I think my mom’s calling me?” so many times that the problem has its own gravity and atmosphere and everything. 

This is why Seokjin is actually shocked when, for the first time in his entire career, he goes around the back of _ El Sombrero _and finds Namjoon fucking Kim waiting by the food truck. It’s the first time he’s ever seen Namjoon when Jimin isn’t introducing them to each other and Seokjin isn’t drunk out of his mind. 

“Huh,” he mumbles under his breath when Namjoon sees Jin and looks decently surprised. Usually when tall men are hanging around the food truck, they’re here to seduce him and take advantage of his food truck kink. Namjoon is definitely not here for that. Probably.

“Hey there Namjoon Kim!” Seokjin shouts and makes his way over to the truck. Namjoon stands taller and waves a little. 

“Seokjin,” he says. So, he remembers his name. That’s a good start. 

“What’s up?” Seokjin gives his most winning smile.

“Uh,” Namjoon looks around cautiously. “I’m here to make burritos?”

Seokjin is shocked for a moment. He throws back his head and laughs. “Ha! Namjoon Kim! A sex euphemism? From you?”

Unfortunately, Namjoon just looks uncomfortable and his face gets all scrunched up. Seokjin is one hundred percent _ not getting any today_. 

“I’m here...to make burritos,” Namjoon insists, even though Seokjin has stopped laughing and is now wishing he could say, “wow, is that my mom calling me?” However, he cannot. 

Seokjin sighs. “Sorry, Namjoon Kim. I have an absolutely terrible sense of humor. Like, it’s godawful. Anyone will attest to that. Don’t even feel obligated to laugh, okay? It’ll be better if you just sit there with your face like that and act like I didn’t say anything.”

Namjoon stares at him. 

He wracks his brain for any other possible reason for Namjoon Kim to be here. “Are you....our new cashier?” he asks hopefully. 

“Yes?" Namjoon says. He draws it out like he might change his answer. 

“Well, what are we standing around here for, then?” Seokjin laughs loudly. There is nothing he is better at than convincing other people that _ they _ are the crazy ones. “We’re not paying you to chit chat!”

“I-” Namjoon says, and Seokjin pushes him up the stairs and into the hot, smelly food truck. There are some flies buzzing around and the boys obviously didn’t mop the floor last night. 

“I’m the manager, by the way,” Seokjin says and smiles reassuringly at him. If he smiles enough and acts normal enough, maybe Namjoon won’t go to José and report Seokjin for sexual harassment. “One of them, at least. I’m gonna take a wild guess and say you’ve got at least some experience as a cashier?”

Namjoon nods. He’s taking Seokjin’s weird mood swings in stride. This is a good sign.

“Sweet. Our cash register is broken.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows shoot up. So nobody told him. He kind of expected that, but whatever.

“Sorry, broken? As in, doesn’t work?” Namjoon asks incredulously. He looks around and instantly locks onto the old, nasty piece of garbage they call their cash register. It’s huge and beige and has those unnecessary plastic buttons that no one has learned to use, ever. The digital screen that’s supposed to sit at the top and say HAVE A NICE DAY YOUR TOTAL IS $4.50 snapped off long before Seokjin ever started working here. 

Seokjin has seen appliances come and go within this truck, but for some reason José won’t let this one go. It baffles him. It apparently baffles Namjoon, too, who is tentatively pressing the buttons and realizing that more than sixty percent of them are stuck. 

He looks at Seokjin. “Are you getting a new one?” he asks hopefully. 

“We aren’t ...not _ not _getting a new one?” Seokjin says slowly. He wonders if he tricked Namjoon with his triple negative. 

Namjoon scowls a little bit. Damn. It worked on Hoseok once. 

“Does the cash drawer work at least?” he asks. 

“Oh!” Seokjin lights up. “Yes! Definitely. You just have to do it like this,” he says, and walks over to the cash register, pulls upward on the edges of the cash drawer button until it comes out of the register completely, exposing the mechanisms beneath, and then takes the screwdriver they tied to the register and gently wiggles it into the mechanisms until the cash drawer comes loose. 

“It’s a walk in the park,” Seokjin says, even as he begins to sweat a little bit on the back of his neck. 

If Namjoon decides he doesn’t want this job, he’s screwed, again. Either he’ll have to abandon the grill and let their customers eat another night with subpar taco meat, while suffering from understaffing and his own weak math skills, or he’ll have to call Yoongi to do it. He’s called Yoongi four times in the last two weeks, because Yoongi was the only one who could coax the machine to do anything really, and then he quit. Yoongi is _ supposed _to be focusing on his schoolwork and writing up some master’s thesis on Bach, not spending ten hours on the food truck every week. 

Namjoon gives him one long-suffering look, and then begins to poke and prod at the machine. He seems less like he’s trying to prove a point though, and maybe more like he might try to actually use it. Seokjin’s heart soars. 

“You’re such a team sport, Namjoon,” Seokjin says, relieved, and goes to the front of the bus. He has just enough foresight to turn over his shoulder and shout, “Hey! Hold onto something!” before he puts his foot to the gas.

Seokjin is a superb driver but he’s seen Namjoon stub his toe from afar at _ least _ twice. It’s a good decision. Namjoon sways as Seokjin pulls the truck up to the service door on the side of _ El Sombrero _but doesn’t fall and doesn’t stub his toe on anything. Seokjin puts the truck into park and almost immediately the restaurant service door opens. There are a few new people, but José leads the pack as usual.

He barely has time to turn off the engine and stand before the group marches into the truck, half of them speaking Spanish and the other half English as they load boxes of lettuce and meat and diced tomatoes into the fridges.

José drops his box first and shouts at the nearest kid to unpack it. He turns to Seokjin. 

“You haven’t turned on the fridges, Jenny,” he scolds, in Spanish. Seokjin rolls his eyes. 

“_You _ didn’t tell me we had a new cashier,” he says, also in Spanish, “_pendejo _. He didn’t even know the machine was broken. Thanks for that.”

José laughs. “But you’re such a good salesman, Jenny! And he is smart, very smart. He’ll be able to do it.”

“I’m sure he is, but the machine is _ broken_, José, as in it doesn’t _ work _. Come on, what do I have to do to get you to buy a new register? People are using iPads, now, and we’re handing out the tacos faster than we’re cashing people out. It’s embarrassing.”

“Ahhhhh,” José says, wagging his finger, “that’s what the smart guy is for. You can figure something out.”

Seokjin sighs a long-suffering sigh, and looks over José’s shoulder at Namjoon, who was working on the cash register a couple minutes ago, but is now looking terrified and holding his hands over his head in surrender, trying to get out of everyone’s way. 

“Yeah, well,” Seokjin says. “Who’s on board today?”

“Hwasa,” José says. “Wheein.”

Seokjin laughs. “Are you trying to segregate us? That’s racist, José. What, you think Mexicans and Asians can’t get along?”

José waves his hand dismissively. “You’re the only one who can speak Spanish, Jenny, what’s the point? You’ll have Hwasa asking for garlic and Antonio asking for _ ajo _. What a mess.”

“You’ll have to make them work the same shift someday.”

“Not today!” José cackles as if he’s just told a joke, and claps Seokjin on the shoulder for good measure. He turns back to several young Mexican boys hovering nearby, all José’s sons (although Seokjin has never taken the time to learn their names -- there are seven of them, good lord, and that’s not taking into account his three daughters) and dismisses them. The boys immediately start kicking the empty cardboard boxes off the bus, whooping and hollering the whole way. 

“_¡No los patees! ¡Si rompes esas cajas, ¡comerás mierda de caballo para la cena!!!_” José screams, and begins running after them. He stops on a second thought, and makes a quick detour to Namjoon, who still looks a little flustered.

“Namjoon,” José says in English, “you are smart boy. Don’t listen to Jenny, ok?”

“Okay,” Namjoon parrots back, and José resumes his chase. 

Namjoon looks at Seokjin. “Are you... Jenny?” he asks. 

“Ah,” Seokjin says. “Yeah. José thinks he’s funny. He says it’s because of my pretty face.”

Namjoon frowns this time, and for the first time ever, probably, it doesn’t seem to be because of Seokjin. 

“Well,” Seokjin says loudly. He looks away. “Let’s get to it.”

\--

Hwasa and Wheein eventually show up. Wheein recently cut her hair and bleached it and she looks like the biggest collegiate-athlete-turned-photo-assistant-lesbian within a fifty-mile radius. Hwasa, who is probably the biggest Wheein fan on the planet on a regular day, gravitates toward her like an asteroid to a planet. Seokjin tries his hardest to do some polite introductions between them and Namjoon, but it’s a hopeless case. He’s pretty sure Hwasa forgot Namjoon’s name before he even said it.

When Hwasa and Wheein sit down and unabashedly flirt with each other, Seokjin makes eye contact with Namjoon and jerks his head toward the front of the truck, making his way to the driver’s seat. Namjoon obediently follows, and Seokjin slides their makeshift door (a piece of plywood that’s absolutely not up to any sort of code) shut behind him. 

“You’re welcome,” Seokjin says when he sits down. He turns the key in the ignition. “I just saved you from a lifetime’s worth of third-wheeling. You’d have been begging me to make it stop.”

“Wait, they’re together?” Namjoon asks curiously.

Seokjin pulls out onto the road. “They are, but they don’t know it, so keep it on the DL,” Jin whispers like it’s a secret. “_Oh, Wheein, you look so gay-- I mean, good today! Oh, Hwasa, your thighs are like two beautiful eggplant emojis-- no homo though!"_ Seokjin makes a _ blechhhh _ sound that comes straight from the back of his throat. “Absolutely no sense of dignity, those two.”

Namjoon makes a weird sound, and Seokjin glances over to make sure he isn’t choking, but to Seokjin’s shock, he’s laughing. His laugh is super obnoxious, too, jeez. He’s really tempted to say something like _ lol didn’t know you had a sense of humor _ but he’s a professional and he’s totally capable of keeping his personal opinions to himself. 

“You laugh weird,” he says instead. 

Cool.

Namjoon looks incredulous for the hundredth time today. It seems to be his permanent expression, this can-you-believe-this-shit? face with his eyebrows threatening to fly up off of his face and into the stratosphere. “_You’re _one to talk,” Namjoon snaps back defensively.“Jimin calls you worldwide windshield wiper behind your back.”

“I know I have a weird laugh!” Seokjin says. “At least I’m aware of it! You think I made it this far in life sounding like a broken clown car and I just _ didn’t notice _?” He sniffs haughtily. “Also, for the record, I came up with ‘worldwide windshield wiper.’ Jimin doesn’t get to take credit for my jokes, the little snake.”

“I-” Namjoon looks really ready to say something back. His lips even form like he’s about to go for it, and then he freezes and just stops and shakes his head. “Okay,” he finally says. He turns and looks out the window.

Seokjin looks at Namjoon for a second. He’s mad at himself, because he really, really didn’t have to go there but his dumb fucking mouth did anyway. He’s also mad that Namjoon won’t even try, like Seokjin kept pointing out to Jimin every time they’d graduate away from each other like twin magnetic poles. 

The truck is quiet for a couple of minutes. It’s tense, but nothing that’s unfamiliar, if he’s honest. He wonders if Namjoon is thinking about all the times they’ve started talking and then stopped just as suddenly as they did just now. He wonders if he should just...throw his pride out the window and make small talk. Maybe not for the sake of some sort of friendship, but just that they’re going to have to work together all summer if Namjoon sticks around. He really does want this to work. Even if they’ll never be able to talk to each other outside of the food truck. 

He opens his mouth to say something, shuts it. What do people talk about at work? He can’t remember the last time he had to make neutral small talk. Maybe Namjoon has opinions on the USDA?

He tries again, and instead of words, the most embarrassing little croak comes out of his mouth. 

Namjoon slowly turns to look at him, eyebrows up again. Fuck. “Uhh,” Seokjin says and clears his throat, loudly. He resolutely stares at the road. “What I meant was - uh. What brought you to El Sombrero?”

Namjoon stares at him for a long moment. In fact, it lasts long enough that Seokjin breaks out into a fresh sweat.

“I needed a job,” Namjoon says. 

Honestly, fuck him. Jimin has shitty friends. “Why _ this _job?” Seokjin persists. “Food truck work sucks. You could be a cashier anywhere.”

Namjoon hesitates, this time less deliberately. “I know a couple of José’s daughters.” He pauses. “Jimin told me you were hiring.”

“I _ see _ ,” Jin says loudly. “_JIMIN _ told you that _ WE _ were _ HIRING_.”

“Uhhhhh,” Namjoon says and looks mildly uneasy.

“Oh, that’s not directed at you,” Jin assures him. “Jimin is just one of the most untrustworthy, slimy, backstabbing traitors of the underworld. Whenever I hear someone say his name when he’s not in the room, I know his slippery, manipulative hands have been there. Somehow, somewhere, he’s rigged the situation to exactly how he wants it. You know?”

“Are you saying Jimin is a god?” Namjoon says.

Seokjin thinks about it as he pulls over to the side of the road and backs into a parking space. “Yes,” he says. “Definitely.”

Namjoon shrugs. “I’m not going to try and convince you otherwise, but if we’re sharing theories, I personally think he’s Janus' demichild.”

Seokjin puts the truck in park. He turns passionately to Namjoon. “He’s a droplet of sweat that rolled off of Satan’s balls condensed into a human form.”

Namjoon makes that loud, obnoxious laugh again, like someone punched him in the stomach. Mid-sound he slaps a hand over his mouth, turning slightly away. His face is a little red. Jin looks at him and it takes a moment for it to sink in. He feels a sudden, sour wave of shame pass over him. 

He doesn’t get any time to say anything, though, before Wheein shoves the plywood door to the side. “Hey, guys!” she says happily. “Let’s get this show on the road!” 

Namjoon stands. Seokjin quickly follows suit, bowing slightly and encouraging Namjoon to walk ahead of him.

“So what do you want us on today, boss?” Wheein asks. Hwasa looks at him expectantly.

“Well,” Seokjin begins, and glances at Namjoon. He makes a decision. “You guys know what you’re doing. Just prep for opening. I need a little recon with the noob here.”

“Alright,” Wheein says, and then turns to Hwasa and shouts, “I CALL VEGETABLE PREP.”

Namjoon looks a little nervous, but not much more than before. He follows Jin over to the cash register. 

“Okay,” Jin says. “Listen. I feel bad about the whole broken cash register thing. I know a few tips and tricks myself, and a few from an ex-coworker. I wanna take a little time to go over everything that could help you out, cause I know it can be stressful and especially with numbers and orders going everywhere, and taco meat does crazy things to people. It can be a lot.”

Namjoon looks at the cash register, then the price menu above the register. “Are those prices accurate?” he asks.

“Yes,” Seokjin says. 

Namjoon looks at the register for another second. “I think I’ll be okay,” he says. He sounds confident. “As long as I know what the prices are for everything, I can do it.”

Seokjin squints at him. “Are you _ sure_?” he insists. “Don’t just say you’re good if you’re gonna panic later.”

“No, I’m good at math,” Namjoon says reassuringly. Seokjin is not reassured. 

“I’m keeping an eye on you, Kim,” he says threateningly. “The moment you show weakness, I’m taking you off the register and giving you a firm lesson in humility.”

Namjoon raises his eyebrows. “Sounds fun,” he says. “I really am good at math though. And humility.”

Seokjin feels his ear go a little red, but only a little. “Hey! Eyes up here,” he says, pointing at his face although Namjoon is already looking there. “Now, do your job and do it right. I’ll be keeping tabs.”

He backs away slowly. Namjoon shrugs. 

The rest of prep goes smoothly. Outside, the sun begins setting and the Friday night crowds begin to flow into the district. Seokjin heard there was supposed to be live music tonight, so he suspects there will be a fair-sized crowd out. At five o’clock, he plugs in the neon sign that says OPEN and turns to Namjoon. “Last chance,” he says. 

Namjoon shakes his head. “Do you have a catchphrase?” he asks. “Anything I’m supposed to say?”

“_Hi, welcome to El Sombrero_, _ would you like salsa with that? _ That’s it.” 

“Cool,” Namjoon says. “I can do that.” 

Seokjin really does keep an eye on Namjoon. He’s half terrified that someone who is so notoriously skittish and clumsy will fuck up constantly, and half terrified that he’s just a dumb fucking jock with a lot of bravado and nothing to show for it. 

The first customers come and leave and it’s on the six or seventh order that Seokjin realizes. 

“Wait,” he says, “are you not using the register?”

“I’m literally using it right now,” Namjoon says, pulling money from the cash drawer and handing it to a customer. 

“No, you aren’t making change on the keyboard though,” Seokjin says, and leaves his precious taco meat for a second to hover nearby and watch as someone asks for four tacos without tomato. Namjoon doesn’t even look at the menu or touch the keys, just wiggles the drawer open and hands out change. 

“Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa,” Jin says. 

“What?” Namjoon says. 

“What are you even handing out?” Jin says. It sure looked like Namjoon didn’t calculate shit.

“Four tacos,” Namjoon says without pause. “They’re $3.15 each and he gave me a twenty and tax is 4%.”

Jin stares at him.

“So his change is $6.90,” Namjon says and hands the takeout bag from Hwasa over the counter to the four-tacos guy. He says _ have a good time_, and starts talking to the next customer. While he’s making change again, Jin says, “You _are_ good at math.”

Namjoon glances at him from the corner of his eye as he hands out the money. “I wasn’t lying,” he says. 

“No,” Jin says, squinting again. “But you’re really, really good at math. Are you a genius or something?”

Namjoon turns sharply away. “No,” he sighs. His shoulders are tense. Jin wonders if Namjoon is always like this talking about himself or if Jin is just really good at finding his tender spots.

“I don’t care if you are,” Jin says. “That’s fucking cool. You’re, like...doing extreme sports mental math in a _ food truck_. You’re not even looking at the menu! Do you have a photographic memory, too?”

Namjoon mumbles something under his breath. “What was that?” Jin asks. 

“Yeah, something like that,” Namjoon mumbles slightly louder. 

“Jesus,” Seokjin says. “You’re _ really _smart.”

“It’s really not a big deal,” Namjoon says. “Don’t make it weird.”

“_Weird? _ ” Jin asks incredulously. “It’s a _ compliment, _Namjoon, stop acting like I’m bullying you.” Maybe that was a little too blunt, but whatever. “Seriously. I’ve worked here for two years and I don’t know how much a taco costs off the top of my head, much less our fuckin’ state tax. I’m _ applauding _you, stupid.”

Namjoon looks kind of flustered. “I-” he says. “Thanks.”

“Alright,” Jin says. “Good. Now stop dilly-dallying and do what we’re paying you for.” 

Namjoon splutters in complaint but smiles a little anyway. Jin does a victory lap in his mind. “Good man,” he says, and turns around to throw spices on his taco meat. 

He can’t really stop watching Namjoon at the window, though. He keeps turning and finding himself watch Namjoon make change without thinking and it really shouldn’t be as big of a deal as it is. 

He licks his lips and forcefully turns himself back to the grill for the hundredth time tonight. He’s a _ professional_. He has some weird kinks but this is really not the time nor the place to be indulging in them. 

The rest of the night goes smoothly, to Seokjin’s surprise. Namjoon sometimes stutters and asks questions, but they don’t get any crazy people complaining and Wheein and Hwasa manage to focus enough on their job (as opposed to each other) that they actually get things done. 

Ten o’clock hits what feels like a couple hours later, but was actually more like five. Seokjin throws the last of his taco meat off the grill and shouts, “Namjoon, last call! We’re shutting this place down in fifteen minutes!”

He hears Namjoon shouting for last call while he turns off the grill and scrapes the grime off. Hwasa and Wheein finish out the last tacos and burritos, they unplug the OPEN sign, and Seokjin pats Namjoon on the shoulder and says _ I’m proud of you, son _ and Namjoon rolls his eyes. 

They drive back in amicable comfort with Spanish pop music playing while Seokjin drives and the rest of them mop and clean and chat. He hears Hwasa finally learn Namjoon’s name and Wheein make a joke at Seokjin’s expense, which he chooses to ignore because he’s a super great boss and super great friend. 

There are about five minutes left until they reach the restaurant when Namjoon slides the plywood to the side and helps himself to the passenger seat. 

He glances over at Seokjin and mumbles, “hey.” 

“Mmm,” Seokjin says. 

Namjoon rolls his neck, tucks his legs up to his chest, and closes his eyes. He crosses his arms and his chin lolls against his shoulder, making his cheek squish a little bit.

Seokjin snorts. Cute. 

They reach the restaurant. Namjoon seems to have fallen asleep, so Seokjin sneaks quietly out of the front seat. It feels a little criminal to wake him after he passed out so quickly. 

He checks that everything has been taken care of and sends Wheein and Hwasa on their way after they carry the leftovers back into the restaurant. They invite him to drink later that weekend and he shrugs as he usually does and they part ways. 

He goes back into the truck and to find Namjoon fast asleep still. He’s even drooling. It’s kind of gross, actually. The entire scene is such a nice change of pace to him being sensitive and standoffish and calling Seokjin names. Might make nice blackmail someday, too. 

Suddenly, Namjoon snores. It startles Seokjin so much that he jumps, and then laughs. Namjoon wakes up with a start, looking blearily at Seokjin, then moving to wipe away the drool on his face.

“Ugh,” Namjoon says. His voice is low and sleepy. “How long have I been out?”

“Ah,” Seokjin says quietly. “Just a few minutes. We already cleaned up. Gotta get you off the truck though so I can go home, snore-boy.”

“_U__gh_,” Namjoon looks up at Seokjin sadly. “Why do you have to be like this?”

“Like what?” Seokjin asks. Namjoon ignores him and gets up instead, stumbling a little bit. 

“I’m sorry I fell asleep,” he says belatedly.“I know I was supposed to help out there at the end.”

“It’s fine,” Seokjin says. “I could have woken you up but you seemed beat. It was only fair after you were such a good sport today.”

“Hmm,” Namjoon hums. “Cool. I’ll help out tomorrow night, I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” Seokjin agrees. Namjoon still seems a little out of it, so he grabs Namjoon’s wallet off the ground, too, and hands it to him.

Namjoon takes it. “Alright. Okay. I’m getting off your stupid truck,” he yawns. He smacks himself in the face a few times and shakes his head. “Yep. Going now.” He moves past Seokjin and off of the truck. Seokjin follows behind and locks the door. 

When he turns to say goodbye, Namjoon is already halfway across the parking lot to his car. 

“Hey! Namjoon Kim!” Seokjin shouts. “See you tomorrow!”

Namjoon doesn’t turn or say anything, just throws up an arm in acknowledgement. 


	2. dos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it takes two to tango

“Oh, Jimin, good _ morning_!” Jin says as he slides into his seat with two coffees. 

“Morning, Jin!” says Hoseok happily. 

“I’m not talking to you,” Jin says to Hoseok. “Here you go.” He slides the second coffee over to Jimin, who takes it and beams at him.

“What did I do to _ you_,” Hoseok whines. 

“Nothing. Which is what you deserve,” Jin says. He watches with hawk-like focus as Jimin brings the cup to his lips. “On the other hand,” 

Jimin spews coffee all over his notes. 

“Jimin deserved a little something,” Jin finishes happily. Wow, revenge really does feel so good. 

“I didn’t do anything to you!!!” Jimin shouts, wiping his tongue. “I spend my days slaving away over your English papers and you put _ salt _ in my _ coffee_?”

“Ah, revenge, the sweetest morsel to the mouth that ever was cooked in hell,” Jin says solemnly.

“Nevermind. I don’t want your coffee or your affections,” Hoseok says, nose wrinkling at the mess Jimin made. 

Jin ignores him.“And so it goes - the circle of life reborn, a new beginning for Jimin Park. Perhaps this time he will stop meddling in his friend’s lives and mind his own fucking business, or perhaps he will continue in a Sisyphean cycle of missteps and manipulation!”

“This is about Namjoon?” Jimin asks incredulously. “You poisoned me and wrote a speech just because I got a Namjoon a job where you work?”

“Yes,” Jin says.

“You’re overreacting,” Jimin retorts. “It’s all just a coincidence.”

“And yet I didn’t mention Namjoon just now. I wonder why you came to the conclusion that this is about him?”

Jimin flushes, caught out. “Fine,” he relents. “But I’m not saying you and Namjoon are soulmates or that you should get married, okay? Just that you would get along really well!”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” Jin says, “but for the last two years, we’ve never managed to hold a conversation for more than two minutes without fighting.”

Jimin looks like he’s about to say something contradictory, so Jin makes a slicing motion across his neck. “Okay, okay,” Jimin says. “Jesus, fine. I’ll cut it out. I won’t even speak of him in passing.”

“And no more liking his photos from my phone,” Jin says.

“I promise.”

“And no more winking and nudging every time we pass the engineering department?”

Jimin holds his hands up in surrender. “I already apologized! Let it go!”

“No, you didn’t,” Jin says. 

“I’m _ sorry_,” Jimin says. 

“Apology accepted,” Jin says, although he is still very bitter and will likely put salt in Jimin’s coffee a few more times this week.

“So, this is fun,” Hoseok says, “but also I have something _ actually _relevant to tell you.”

Jin leans back, instantly suspicious. “What is it?”

“Jimin and I aren't going to be able to do the movies,” Hoseok says, apologetic.

“What? Why?” Jin asks, a little surprised and a little dismayed. They’ve always gone to the free summer showings at the theater. The program was called _ New, Old, and In-Between_, and this year they were finally, _ finally _ going to show _ Grease _ and the first showing was tomorrow night. He was actually kind of excited. 

“Well, because of the summer class schedule, that internship we got at the dance program is going to take up our entire weekends. The _ entire _weekend- it’s basically Friday evening through Sunday because we’re so busy during weekdays,” says Hoseok. “And we’ll still be able to hang out! Just not at the movie showings.”

Jin’s first reaction is that he’s upset, but he’s not sure who he’s upset at. The unstoppable passage of time? The only sure thing in life, which is that nothing is sure? That he’ll be graduating in less than a year, and soon it won’t be just movie nights, but also classes that they don’t have together and schedules that align less than they match up?

He quickly abandons the train of thought. He’s not good at following things through anyway.

“Okay,” Jin shrugs. “I don’t need you twats there in order to enjoy _ Grease_, anyway.”

“We really are sorry though,” Jimin insists, but he doesn’t have the time to complete his apology because the professor walks in and coughs to get everyone’s attention. Jin turns gratefully towards the front and pretends to be very interested in taking notes. 

….

At some point over the next twenty-four hours, Seokjin makes peace with himself over Jimin and Hoseok abandoning him. He resolves to see every single movie for the entire summer and make them feel like shit for not being as wordly and culturally involved as Seokjin is, starting with the first Friday showing tonight. Having something to look forward to after six hours on the food truck puts him in a good mood.

On the other hand, Namjoon messes up twice as much as usual despite the shift being a rather slow Friday. He gets frustrated about it, and Jin teases him to lighten the mood, and Namjoon becomes doubly frustrated because Jin seems to hit a nerve every single time. By the end of the night they’re at each other’s throats and Hwasa has offered to take over the register several times to get Namjoon to take a break and collect himself. He only caves in the last fifteen minutes of his shift, looking tired and surly.

When the clock finally hits ten, Wheein and Hwasa shut the blinds and begin their systematic cleaning. Seokjin looks at the door where Namjoon left to take a break.

“You should go get him, boss,” says Wheein. “He’ll be upset if you let us do all the cleaning without him again.”

“Can’t you go get him?” Jin asks. It might sound a little like begging to the untrained ear, but he’s far too mature to do something like beg to his inferiors.

“Did he say something?” Wheein asks.

“Who?” asks Hwasa.

“Wow, fine,” Jin relents. He fiddles with the zipper on his jacket for a while and pretends to not know where his hat is until Wheein brings the broom all the way back and hits him on the ass like she's training for the World Series.

He leaves the food truck rubbing his backside and immediately sees Namjoon. Thankfully, it doesn’t look as if he’s crying or something else Jin would be completely unequipped to deal with. He’s just sitting on a bench just twenty or so feet away from the truck, staring into space and bouncing his leg up and down.

Jin walks over and Namjoon glances up. He looks a little surprised.

"Sorry," Namjoon says, and stands abruptly. "It is time? I'm ready, I just lost track of time."

"You do that a lot," Seokjin says, and when Namjoon starts looking defensive he waves his hand tiredly. "I'm not attacking you, I'm really not. Just -- yep, come on buddy, sit back down," he says as he gently pushes Namjoon back onto the bench, who goes with surprisingly little resistance, and then sits down beside him.

He rummages around in his pockets and Namjoon, still tense, goes, "You’re not going to smoke, are you?" 

Jin looks at him incredulously. "No, what? That's disgusting. I have laffy taffy," he says, and pulls out a few apple and strawberry ones to prove it.

"Oh," Namjoon says weakly.

"Well? Which do you want?" Jin presses.

"Strawberry," Namjoon says quietly and Jin passes a couple over. 

Jin begins opening the green apple ones left. He shoved the taffy into his mouth and unfolds the wrapper to read the joke. "Ah, Namjoon! You're smart, how do you get a baby alien to sleep?"

Namjoon chews slowly. "I...don't know?"

"You rocket!" Jin laughs. “Ah, gosh, that’s bad.” He laughs again despite himself and eats a few more, reveling in the silence.

After a couple of minutes, he says, “You ready to go inside?”

Namjoon looks surprised again, probably at Jin’s newfound ability to not antagonize him every time he speaks.

“Yeah,” he says and follows Jin to stand up. “Thanks.”

“Don't mention it,” Jin says.

They wander back to the food truck. Namjoon is quiet and everyone pretends nothing happened earlier. He remembers all the side work procedures easily, and with Namjoon’s assistance, everything is done before Seokjin even gets them all the way back to El Sombrero. 

They fall into their usual pairs -- Wheein and Hwasa staring into each other’s eyes in the back of the truck, and Namjoon eventually wandering up to the passenger seat with Seokjin. 

“I’m not going to fall asleep this time,” he assures Seokjin, although Seokjin would greatly enjoy watching Namjoon drool on himself again. 

When they’ve arrived and finish unloading the truck and shutting everything down, Wheein and Hwasa invite Seokjin out drinking like they usually do and this time they invite Namjoon as well. 

Seokjin shrugs as he has a million times. “I’d love to, ladies, but I have plans.”

“Same,” Namjoon says apologetically. “Maybe next week?”

“Not a problem,” Wheein says, unbothered. “We drink a lot.”

“It isn’t hard to make plans with alcoholics,” Jin jokes, and Hwasa laughs. 

The girls turn and head toward the back of the parking lot, and Jin strides toward the gate to the street. He’s only a few blocks from the movie theater -- there’s no reason to waste the gas. It’s a perfect temperature for a walk anyway.

He makes it halfway to the gate when he realizes Namjoon is walking right behind him.

He turns around and walks slowly backward instead. He squints at Namjoon. “Are you following me, Namjoon Kim? I don’t have any more laffy taffy. You’ll have to go buy more yourself, I won’t enable you anymore.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes. “I’m not following you.”

“Well, you’re creeping behind me and your car is over _ there_, Namjoon,” Jin says, and points back toward the parking lot.

“I’m not taking my car,” Namjoon insists. “I’m walking to the theater on Amaretto. Where are you going?”

Jin feels a wave of cold dread start at the top of his head and rush through his whole body. “I’m ...also going to the theater,” he says, slowing to a stop. 

Namjoon also stops, the situation hitting suddenly. They look at each other. _ This has got to be the most unlucky coincidence of the century_, Jin thinks for half a second, and then thinks, livid with realization, _ JIMIN I’M GOING TO KILL YOU. _

He smiles to keep from baring his teeth and takes a deep breath as quietly as possible. “What a little coincidink,” he says lightly. “You’re also going to the summer showings?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon says, finally snapping out of it. “They’re showing Juno later this month.”

“Juno is a good movie,” Jin agrees reluctantly. “The movie starts in ten minutes. I suppose we could...walk there together.” He says it like the idea pains him, which, it does. A little bit.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Namjoon agrees hurriedly, and he sidles alongside Seokjin.

It’s just as horrible as Jin anticipated -- long gone is the semi-comfortable silence from earlier tonight, where Jin had offered a laffy taffy olive branch and had the upper hand. He’s blindsided, he’s pissed at Jimin, and he can’t bring himself to conjure any conversation topics for the sake of propriety. Namjoon is not much better, anxiety coming off of him in waves.

They walk like this for several minutes. Namjoon pretends to admire architecture. Jin kicks lots of rocks off of the sidewalk into the gutter. 

They stop at a crosswalk with a light and Jin presses the crosswalk button more times than he really should, just to hear the recorded voice go “WAIT WAIT WAIT.” 

He’s pressing it a twelfth time when Namjoon’s hand covers the button. 

“Hey,” he says, looking up. 

Namjoon usually beats around the bush but he doesn’t this time. His face is all pained and sincere. “Should I just go back?”

“What?” Jin asks, startled. 

“I don’t want to ruin your night,” Namjoon says. Oh, no. “This feels weird. Should I just... go back?”

Jin, as he often is with Namjoon, is astounded by his simultaneous stupidity and thoughtfulness. 

“Absolutely not,” Jin says sharply. He’s not sure where his self-assurance came from, but, “Fuck civility. We’re both going to see this dumb movie. What are they playing tonight again?”

“La La Land,” Namjoon says, expression unreadable.

“I’m going to watch the shit out of La La Land and you’re _ also _ going to watch the shit out of La La Land. Yes, this is super awkward, but that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. _ Should I go back? _Pfft!” He tentatively touches the outside of Namjoon’s arm, trying with all the telepathic power he possesses to convey that he’s not trying to antagonize him, he’s just trying to make a point the only way he knows how. He thinks it works. “I’m not going to punish you for things outside of your control, I’m not that petty. The last thing I want is to make you miss out on one of the greatest movies of the century just because we can’t be buddy-buddy-best-friends all the time, ok?”

“Okay,” Namjoon says, looking a little stunned. “I mean, thank you.”

“Why are you _ thanking _ me, you martyr,” Jin says and begins to cross the road. “I’m not some benevolent god.”

“Okay, well, maybe not thank you,” Namjoon says, jogging to catch up. “Um, maybe more like. I appreciate your monologue?”

“Appreciation accepted,” Jin says. He’s trying not to think too hard about how he just acknowledged that they don’t like each other out loud. Is that weird? Archenemies do that, he supposes, but he and Namjoon aren’t _ archenemies_. Just argument-prone acquaintances. Maybe it will make things less tense to be on the same page, but what if it makes things worse, and Namjoon declares no-holds-barred psychological warfare on him? He’s smart enough and Seokjin with his 2.8 GPA wouldn’t stand a chance. 

“What’s your GPA, Namjoon?” Seokjin asks casually as they step off of the crosswalk.

“3.9,” Namjoon replies, caught off guard with the topic change. They round the corner and find the theater door propped open with a cardboard cutout of Ryan Gosling. “Why? Is it relevant?”

“No, no reason,” Jin says casually. Namjoon could definitely conduct an effective campaign against Seokjin and incapacitate him. He’ll have to watch his back.

Inside the theater, the counter is empty but there’s a sign hanging on another Ryan Gosling cutout that says _ MOVIE IN THEATER #3! POPCORN MACHINE IS SHUT DOWN! _

“Huh,” Namjoon says and they follow the signs to Theater #3. “They sure have a lot of those.”

Five more identical Ryan Gosling signs are crowded outside of the theater door. Jin eyes them. “I want one,” he says. 

“Well, they have more than enough to go around,” Namjoon says, already opening the door.

“You know what, you’re right,” Jin says, and grabs the nearest Ryan Gosling and carries it under his arm into the theater. 

Namjoon watches him stride past, shocked. “For some reason, and I cannot fathom why, I didn’t think you would actually take him.”

“Ye of little faith,” Jin says happily, exiting hall into the seating area. He’s unsurprised at the turnout: one teenage boy with his hood up and earbuds in, and one middle-aged woman in a business suit, feet propped up on the seat head in front of her. 

Namjoon catches up next to him. “It’d be weird if we sat away from each other, right,” Jin says. 

“Yep,” Namjoon says. 

They choose to sit smack in the middle because Jin is more of second row kind of guy and Namjoon apparently prefers to sit under the fucking projector, like a weirdo. Jin places Ryan Gosling in the seat next to him and holds his cardboard hand. 

Jin is excited. It’s been a while since he saw _ La La Land _. But he’s nowhere close to Namjoon’s level of excitement when the music begins, with his mouth open in an O and jiggling his knee with his hands clasped in his lap. He looks like a little kid and Jin can’t resist leaning over and whispering, “What, are you a musical nerd or something?”

It’s the first time Namjoon hasn’t reacted poorly to Jin teasing him. Instead, he leans toward Jin without taking his eyes off the screen, “I love musicals. I heard this one was incredible.”

Well, Jin can’t tease him for _ that _. What the heck, he might even like Namjoon more than he dislikes him now. 

“Oh, you haven’t seen it?” Jin asks. Namjoon shakes his head. “Allow me to spoil it for you. Ryan Gosling --”

Namjoon steps on his foot _hard_ and Jin curses loudly, slapping him on the arm. “I wasn’t going to actually spoil it, you big-footed tree stump!”

“Shh,” Namjoon whispers. “We’re in a theater, _ Seokjin_.”

“I’ll show you a theater,” Jin threatens, shaking his fist, but Namjoon is lost to the opening number. Jin lets him. He wasn’t lying before -- he wasn’t about to let anyone miss an opportunity to see one of the greatest movies made in the last hundred years. 

It’s only twenty minutes in, maybe, when Sebastian is joking with his sister about how ‘lol I know I’m a weird passionate loser, but at least I’m a _ funny _ weird passionate loser', Namjoon laughs. 

He immediately stops and then bites his fist. Jin looks at him out of the corner of his eye, concerned. 

Namjoon catches his glance. “Sorry,” he mumbles. 

Just like the first time, Jin is momentarily puzzled. And then the realization hits him like a train and he feels the same sick wave of self-disgust from before, but twofold. He doesn’t even stop to think. He leans over and pulls Namjoon’s hand away from his face and says, barely audible, “Namjoon, I am a stupid, dumb idiot, okay? Remember when José said not to listen to me? Seriously. Don’t.”

Namjoon stares at him, hand limp in Seokjin’s grip.

“I like your laugh,” Jin insists. If he ever makes Namjoon feel bad again he’ll probably just die. “I _ like _ your laugh. Okay?”

Namjoon nods. Jin lets go. 

They finish the movie in silence. 

\---

Thankfully, Namjoon has a lot to say after it ends and it fills the space that otherwise would have been filled by Seokjin’s gay panic as he drags a cardboard Ryan Gosling cutout back to _El Sombrero_.

(If every time he accidentally hurts Namjoon he does something as ridiculous as what he did in the theater, it’s entirely likely that the situation could escalate. What if next time it’s not just some harmless shoujo move? What if Jin tries to ‘kiss it better’ or blow Namjoon as a gesture of brotherly goodwill?)

He agrees with most of the analyses Namjoon makes on La La Land (yes, the opening number was intentionally over the top and a clever way to introduce the plot, yes this was Emma Stone's best performance yet) and is spared from having to engage too much. Namjoon hops from topic to topic without much method to his madness, until Jin realizes he's weaving some kind of conspiracy together that the main character was little more than a backseat passenger in her own story. 

"And what about her one woman show?" Jin interrupts incredulously. "She wrote it, got the venue, and performed it herself!"

"But Sebastian was the one who gave her the idea and he was the reason she followed through, _ or _went to the big audition afterward," Namjoon argues. 

“He didn’t hold a _ gun _ to her head,” Jin snaps. “She has a free will.”

“It not about that, it’s about the principle of the thing,” Namjoon pushes wildly, using his hands to express himself. “Break the fourth wall, and we’ve got people writing stories every day where a man walks into a woman’s stagnant existence, and suddenly her life changes! He makes things happen, waits in the rain for her, opens doors for her. Even in movies that have a ‘strong female lead,’ she hardly ever actually moves the chess pieces — I mean, what about _ Hidden Figures_? They hold their ground in the face of resistance, but if it weren’t for that big white NASA guy, like, _ giving them permission _ to do _ their actual job_, they wouldn’t have made history. It’s always some plot where in a sea of evil white men, there’s one good egg, so that the screenwriter can jerk himself off over being the catalyst for feminism."

Namjoon ends strong, red in the face and honestly looking pretty sexy, but the moment he turns and meets Jin’s eyes, he looks scandalized. Jin stares at him. 

“I thought you were an engineering student?” Jin asks. 

Namjoon blushes deeply. “I might be a double major?” 

“In what, cinema?”

“Gender studies.”

“Wow,” Jin says. “You know, if this were a movie, you would be the good egg.”

“Are you complimenting me or saying I’m a shitty guy trying to make himself feel better?” Namjoon grumbles. 

“Neither? Both?’ Jin says hesitantly. “I mean, I don’t know you very well. Feminists are really dodgy, who knows.”

Namjoon is moderately pissed. “Feminism literally translates to equality. I don’t know what you can find dodgy about that.”

“I should clarify,” Jin says calmly. “I don’t have a problem with _ feminism _. Feminism is super great. It’s just. There are two sides to all the coins in the world, right? On one hand, I really do think you’re cool to be educating yourself on this stuff, because perspective is good for us. Knowledge, too, right? On the other hand, I think that the fact that it’s cool and mainstream now to take women’s studies classes and be woke takes away from the gravity of the movement. People treat it like a cool trend with t-shirts instead of a centuries-long social reform. And guys just use it as a bullet point on their Tinder profile. You know?.”

He pauses and looks up. “There’s no need to look so shocked, Namjoon. Just because I wear pink doesn’t mean I don’t have opinions.”

“That’s not-” Namjoon huffs. He does look shocked. Not like he usually does, where he can’t believe Jin is committing social crimes against him, but more like he is overwhelmed. Pleased, maybe? No, that’s a far reach. They walk quietly on with the sound of Ryan Gosling dragging on the ground.

“My sister Gyeong sends me articles every once in a while,” Jin says eventually. He feels somewhat foolish now. “And we talk. It’s not a college level lecture, by any means, but…”

“I -- well. I didn’t know you felt that way,” Namjoon says. “I don’t know if I agree, you know. But. That was very well-spoken of you. ”

“Thanks. I’m glad I met your standards,” Jin says drily. 

“Oh my god. Do you _like_ twisting my words so I sound like an asshole????” Namjoon asks desperately. 

Jin laughs. “Namjoon, I love making people uncomfortable, and you’re, like, a U.S. government census-approved nice guy. Of course I like making you look like an asshole.”

Namjoon ponders over this for a moment instead of getting pissed, which is very polite of him. “I _ guess _you can keep doing it,” he says eventually. “As long as afterward you always say I’m nice like that?”

“You’re very nice, Namjoon,” Jin says honestly. He immediately goes back to ridiculing him to regain the upper hand. “By the way, I liked that bit at the end of your speech about the screenwriter jerking himself off. Very edgy.”

Namjoon covers his face with his hands, immediately scandalized. He mumbles some upset sounds. “I don’t even know where it came from,” he whines. “My roommate plays overwatch and now I have so many weird insults in my subconscious, you have no idea…” 

Jin laughs, and even adjusts cardboard Ryan Gosling to reach over and amicably pat Namjoon’s shoulder. “I had a feeling, bud. It didn’t sound like you.”

“Mmmpoaksjfdlkaj,” says Namjoon. 

“Would you look at that, we’re back,” Jin says. The lights are still on at El Sombrero and Jose waves at them through the window, then goes back to smacking his sons with a broom.

When they reach the food truck, Namjoon straightens up and turns to Jin. He should have known Namjoon is the kind of (_ugh_) upstanding citizen who gives people personal farewells. He hugs Ryan Gosling close for protection. 

Instead, Namjoon says, “Um....Jimin is dead set on us getting along.”

Jin sighs in relief. “Oh, thank god. Yeah, he’s been on my ass about for like, a year now.”

“Same,” Namjoon says, relaxing. “I don’t know why he won’t let it go. I mean, we fight all the time?”

“Don’t I know it,” Jin commiserates with a hand over his heart. “That Namjoon guy is _ so _annoying.”

"Oh, shut up,” Namjoon rolls his eyes. “Anyway, I had a point. I wanted to say that we should fake it up a little bit.”

“Fake what?” Jin asks.

“I don’t mean lie, I'm a terrible liar and it makes me feel gross. But I'm planning on going to these movie showings, and you are _also_ going to these movie showings_,_ and if you wanna sit apart, we can sit apart, but let’s just...tell _Jimin_ that we’re going together.”

Jin _ ahhhs _ appreciatively. “I see, Namjoon, you sneaky brain-boy. We feed information to Jimin that we’re hanging out and as a result we get peace and quiet, free movies, and _ I _get Ryan Gosling. Everyone wins.”

“Exactly,” Namjoon grins. “We don’t even have to do anything extra. Just make sure Jimin never forgets that we spend time together and he’ll never have a reason to drop off your rehearsal schedules in my mailbox again.”

“He did that to you too?” Jin asks “He would send me Google calendars with every extracurricular, class time, and lunch hour logged.”

“I got one of those once, but I installed a plugin that forwards the reminder emails infinitely to his mailbox. He cut it out after I had maxed out his account storage twice.”

“_Ge__nius_,” Jin exclaims. “I’ll be in touch for the link to that plug-in.”

Namjoon laughs. “I’m more than happy to,” he says. “Anyway. Cool. I’m glad we’re on the same page. But it’s past my bedtime, I’m gonna get going.”

Jin glances at his watch. 1:30 AM. “Okay, fair,” he admits. “Me too. Ryan Gosling and I need to go home and consummate our new relationship.”

Namjoon chokes on his spit. “I don’t want to know,” he says. “Please, consummate all you want but leave me out of it.”

Jin shrugs. “Your loss. It’s gonna be real steamy.”

“I’ll take that L,” Namjoon says, backing away. “See you next week, Seokjin.”

“_Adios, voyeur de piernas largas_!” Jin quips. Namjoon rolls his eyes and strides off toward his car. 

“Oh, Ryan,” Jin sighs, watching Namjoon retreat. “What am I going to do?”

Ryan is quiet. “You’re right,” Jin agrees. “I’ll probably put salt in his coffee again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Revenge, the sweetest morsel to the mouth that ever was cooked in hell."  
-Walter Scott, The Heart of Mid-Lothian
> 
> honestly no one is ever mean to jimin in fiction and he's so perfect all the time that I just wanna slap him around a bit. this was extremely cathartic. rip fictional jimin.
> 
> p.s. fair warning, I will be addressing a lot of social issues in this story, and I am not a perfect feminist. I am constantly plagued by hypocrisies and grey areas, and I hope you'll allow the comments to not stray into politics. Know that I read every comment, but I won't be replying to ones that are aggressive or the ones that solely want to talk politics/social issues. (we have twitter for that). In this story, there will be no verdicts on who is right or wrong in their opinion. these are just conversations in a vacuum.


End file.
